


a long way from the playground

by shutupluke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, It's not descriptive really but I'll tag it, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupluke/pseuds/shutupluke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His Dad had told him when he was younger that he would never understand what love actually felt like until he had his own children. He thinks he understands now. Watching his daughters interacting with his husband, their father- watching his little family just coexisting and loving each other; Calum feels at peace. He feels <em> in love. </em> He wouldn't trade his life for anything. </p><p>~</p><p>Or, the domestic AU that nobody asked for</p>
            </blockquote>





	a long way from the playground

**Author's Note:**

> So here is my take on the Remix prompt! This fic has been the source of many all caps texts for the past month or so, and has caused me a lot of emotional pain but I am somewhat happy with the end result. 
> 
> This fic also takes it's title from a One Direction song- I might have to stop doing that. 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy Malum as parents!

It's mornings like this, where soft light streams in through the minuscule crack at the bottom of their blackout blind and illuminates his husband's face: this is when it hits him. He's stupidly fucking lucky. Michael looks so serene like this- his pale skin almost translucent in the early morning haze. Everything about him is so ethereally pale, there's no real difference between his body and the white sheets they lie between. The only sign that he's not actually a ghost is his dark, coarse beard and the thick lashes lying against his cheekbones. Calum worries, momentarily, that the quiet and peace is actually a sinister sign of something else- the ridiculous notion dies out the second he feels Michael's chest rise and fall- but he worries nonetheless. Force of habit. Calum uses just his index finger to gently trace Michael's collar bones, and Michael hums contentedly under his breath. His eyelids flutter open and he groans as he looks up and locks eyes with Calum.

"And he rises!" Calum murmurs, and Michael groans, louder again. 

"Piss oooooff-" Michael whines, voice croaky from sleep. He reaches out from beneath the covers to feebly push at Calum's chest, but the message gets lost in translation, and he merely strokes up from the planes of Calum's broad chest to lace his arms around Calum's neck. He kind of wriggles forwards, pressing his lips to Calum's collarbone in what could be a cuddle, but is most probably an aborted attempt to kiss his neck. 

"Morning, babe." Calum says, and smiles brightly, kissing the top of his head. 

"'time's'it?"

Calum cranes his neck (Michael makes a noise of complaint) to read the glaring print on their alarm clock- 6:37 am. 

"Do you want to know?" 

Michael sighs- his breath tickles and Calum shivers. "I don't think I do, actually. But we're getting up?" 

"We have ten minutes to spare, maybe. 15 if we're lucky." Michael shuffles upward slightly, staring into the depths of Calum's gold-flecked eyes. 

He smirks. "I can think of something to do for 15 minutes." God, Calum loves him so much. 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah." And he presses his lips against Calum's. The intensity builds: embers to a roaring flame in seconds. It's nothing they haven't done a million times before, but the routine is comforting, not dull. Calum doesn't think one moment with Michael could be boring. 

As if driven by this very thought, Calum focuses his energy on pinning Michael to the mattress and straddling his thighs. Michael's looking up at him, panting wildly, eyes glistening with mischief. "Babe-" and he cuts himself off with a groan as Calum moves to kiss at his neck. 

Calum momentarily pauses to admire the gorgeous creation spread out beneath him. It's been more than thirty years since they first met. Then they were barely 8 years old, running wild on the playground at school. Time has done nothing to diminish the beauty that Calum recognised, well, probably even then on some level, but definitely when he was fifteen. There are differences between his husband now and his husband even _ten_ years ago (his grey hair count for a start), but Calum loves him as much now as he ever has and ever could: to the moon and back. 

Calum leaves a trail of kisses down Michael's throat and across his shoulders. He mouths along the slopes of his collar bones, and shuffles further down the bed to continue his path down Michael's chest and stomach. He kisses each of Michael's hip bones- he's aware, however, of how quick he needs to be, so he doesn't take his time to mark Michael up in the way he wishes to. Time is not a luxury they've been afforded for a while.

He looks up to Michael- Michael, with his eyes closed in bliss, head resting in his hands, is practically an emblem of innocence. And yet... Well, Calum's husband is a walking contradiction- loud and brash but also gentle and quiet- he looks angry and punk but is actually a total softie. Calum finds it more endearing than he probably should.

Calum is face to face with Michael's boxers now, breathing heavily onto the skin just above the waist band. He's pausing, but it's not that he's intimidated. It's just- he kind of wants Michael to be looking at him. Call him an attention seeker, but Calum is a little desperate to be looked at with green eyes full of awe and want.

"Mike." Calum mutters, pressing one chaste kiss to Michael's left hipbone.

"Babe, what is it?" Michael both looks and sounds like he could fall asleep in moments, which absolutely will not do.

"Look at me a sec, Mike." Michael grumbles; he's a lazy arsehole and he was probably comfortable but like, Calum is offering orgasms and those will win every time. Michael shifts so he's sitting up more, a right angle, resting on his forearms. Calum sometimes (okay, more often than not) enjoys how controlled Michael is by desire. 

And he may not like, tell him or anything, but Calum actually enjoys going down on Michael. He won't lie- the sex hasn't been the same for years now, not since the girls were born, but Calum's not afraid to show Michael that he still enjoys it.

And god, the grunts and the moans and the fucking _whimpers_ he drags out of his spouse make him feel weak. He knows what to do to get Michael off, could do it in his sleep, probably, but that doesn't make it less enjoyable. It makes it quicker, and speed has become a more valuable asset the older they've grown. Michael will whisper throughout the whole thing, quiet swear words or encouragements "come on baby, I know you can take more for me," but god when he comes, it's as if words fail him, and he just gasps and gasps and gasps like the oxygen has been ripped from his lungs. 

"Fuck, Calum. You're so fucking good at that." Michael murmurs breathlessly when it's done, when Calum's finished rutting against Michael's thigh to get himself off too, when they've finished kissing, finally. 

Calum just laughs, pecks his forehead and pulls himself off the bed. He stumbles around in the dark, searching blindly for the sweatpants he had been wearing the night before, and when he finds them he tugs them on. He turns on the lights as he walks out of the room, and giggles again at Michael's exaggerated groan. 

He's got to get the girls up and ready for school before he heads to the office for a few hours- he doesn't have much to do, just a meeting with one of their new artists to talk over the finer details of their contract with his lawyer. Mike had liked this guy, had babbled nonstop about the song that came out of their first session. And, if Calum trusts his husband's opinion on anything, it's music. 

The girls' rooms are the floor below Calum and Michael's (their room is not so much a 'room' as the old attic converted into their own private space- en suite, open plan bedroom and living room in one), so Calum bounds down the stairs to wake them up. Ro's room is at the other end of the hall, and the routine Calum has developed is to head to her first and make his way along the corridor and back to the staircase to make sure Michael is still awake. 

He knocks before he pushes the door open- not so much a privacy thing as a warning. "Aroha, are you awake?" 

His daughter yawns and rubs at her eyes with her small fists. "Uh huh." 

Calum advances a little to crouch beside her bed. "You sure? Because I think if I left you now you'd fall straight back asleep." 

"I wouldn't!" Aroha's indignance moves her so much she turns on her side to face Calum directly, his own deep brown staring him down. It's a little disconcerting for seven am.

"I don't know," he makes his voice a little higher than it usually is, teasing her in a sing song voice to make it obvious that he is teasing. "You still look quite sleepy. I think maybe you need a little help from me and my friend the Tickle Monster?" 

Her eyes widen so dramatically Calum can't help but laugh. "No. No I'm awake. I promise. You don't need to." 

"Okay, okay, I believe you. Well, get dressed princess, we do not want to be late today, do we?" 

"I wasn't late yesterday!" She protests.

He shakes his head fondly and smiles. "Aroha, yesterday was Sunday." His daughter frowns, but giggles when Calum digs at her sides in an attempt to tickle her awake. 

"Papa stop it! Stop it, I'm gonna die!" Calum holds his hands up in surrender, and his daughter inhales deeply to recover her breath. "And anyway, it's completely Daddy's fault that I'm late, you know." She informs him when she's calm, sitting up in her bed now.

Calum must admit he's a little intrigued. "Oh really?" 

"Yeah! He always takes us to McDonald's to get breakfast before school, so we end up late. Miss McCarthy doesn't mind that much because Daddy always smiles at her when she drops us off and she thinks he's 'charming'." 

Calum can't fight the smile that breaks out across his face. God, that is so typically Michael that if he wasn't a little annoyed he'd be laughing out loud. "And, hmm, why do you think your Daddy never told me this story, Ro?" Calum knows why- because Michael _knows_ that Calum is trying to raise the girls on a diet of food that is good for them, food that won't give them diabetes. They'd argued about this very issue countless times, but Calum had always thought he'd won. Evidently his victory was more marginal than he'd first assumed.

"I think he thinks you'll be mad at him. And you can't be." 

"Why not?" 

"Because, um..." She bites her lip as she struggles for a reason: a mannerism she had undoubtedly inherited from Calum. "Because you love him, and he loves you!" She exclaims earnestly.

Calum nods solemnly. "An excellent point. But you know what I think about McDonalds, Ro. What have I told you about processed food?" 

Aroha sighs with the apathy of a teenager. "McDonalds is for touring, not for tea." 

"Exactly." He kisses the top of her dark curly hair. "Get dressed, Ro. Tell you what: I'll make pancakes instead. Pancakes are better than McDonalds!" Calum can justify it in his head- if they're low fat pancakes then there's no _real_ harm, and Calum knows a recipe or two.

"Chocolate chip?"

"Chocolate chip." Calum confirms, straightening up and walking towards the door.

She gasps, and Calum has to bite his lip to stop himself from squealing at how goddamn adorable his child is. "This is the best morning ever!" 

Next stop is Josie's room- and waking her up is a much simpler task. She's very cuddly in the mornings, easy and pliable in a way her older sister could never be. In that respect, she's the opposite of her Father too. Michael requires a great deal of coaxing and prompting, sometimes even flat out bribery. It's refreshing, is what it is, because all though Josie is up and raring seconds after she's woken up, she's less... Exuberant. Calum doesn't think he could deal with shenanigans this early in the morning. 

He knocks once, same protocol as always, and pops his head around the door. "We awake Jo?" 

He's worried for a moment, because she's not in her bed, but his pounding heart relaxes when he sees her little blonde head over by her wardrobe. "Yeah." She calls, turning to smile at him. "I heard you and Roha laughing and it woke me up." 

He's leaning against the door frame now, just observing as she rifles through the closet that was made for somebody taller. She's on a step stool- one Calum had had conniptions over when he'd first seen Michael dragging it to her room- ("She could fall and break her arms! Or her legs! Or her neck- Michael why do you want our daughter to die?") because she can't really reach the hangers. 

She's muttering to herself under her breath, and Calum realises she's partaking in a conversation that he's not a part of. Josie is quite prone to thinking up imaginary friends: she's frankly too shy to socialise with people in her classes, so falls back on her creations for companionship. Like everything else, Calum is worried about that. Whilst she had never explicitly told either of them she was having a hard time making friends at school, the fact that she never talked about friends or invited people over or even left the house without either Calum or Michael: well, they could gather what they needed from that. 

Whilst Calum had been a shy kid, he'd never necessarily been a lonely one. He thinks, privately, that their daughter's isolation is something Michael can relate to. He also thinks that that's why the two of them have this incredibly special relationship. Michael can really bring Josie out of her shell in a way Calum can only very occasionally achieve. When the connection between the two of them had first started forming, Calum had been a little jealous, actually, of the love his daughter had for his husband. It seems ridiculous when he thinks about it now, but Aroha had never really expressed the same sort of total devotion to either one of them, so it had felt like Calum was kind of... Unloved? Like, he knew that that was silly because Michael loved him and his daughters definitely loved him- but Josie loved Michael more.

Or so it seemed. As the years progressed Calum understood that it wasn't that at all. Josie didn't love Calum less than Michael, she just had different relationships with them. Calum is actually really proud of his daughter and his husband's bond, especially considering how terrified of fatherhood Michael had been at first. He loves to just watch the two of them interact, whether they're playing together or just cuddling on the couch, seeing them together always makes his heart swell.

"Jose, who you talking to angel?" Calum asks. He plays along, will always indulge his daughter even if he considers her behaviour odd. 

Josie turns to him, frowning, her green eyes glinting with annoyance. "Snowball is trying to help me get dressed, but he keeps getting hair all over everything!" 

Snowball was one of the more permanent creations. Apparently, according to Josie, he was a fluffy white cat who could talk. Also it seemed that he had fashion sense, and shed hair like a bitch. Snowball was probably down to Michael- he had constantly begged Calum for a cat when they'd first moved in together but Calum didn't like cats, and a dog would be too much work considering the amount of tours they'd been doing when they were still newlyweds. Calum couldn't help but think that Michael had persuaded Josie that a kitty cat would be a perfect best friend, as some sort of weird revenge thing. Either way, Michael had, to a degree, got the cat he wanted.

Calum tuts exaggeratedly. "Well I guess that Snowball doesn't want pancakes then." 

Josie's eyes light up. "Pancakes? Papa are you making pancakes for breakfast?" 

Calum tries to keep his face neutral and crosses his arms. "Might be. But if Snowball is stopping you from getting dressed there might not be time for pancakes." 

Josie shakes her head determinedly. "No, he's gone wandering now. I can get dressed and then I'll be ready for pancakes lickety-split." And, okay, maybe Josie had spent too much time with Calum's Dad. 

"Lickety-split?" Calum asks, not even attempting to mask his amusement.

"Uhuh. Grandad says it all the time. It means super quick. And I'm going to be ready super quick." 

Calum shakes his head fondly and laughs. "Okay. If you can get yourself dressed I'll leave you to it." 

"I can, Papa. I can totally dress myself now. Aroha can, so I can too." 

Calum surrenders. "Alright, that's fine. I'll start your pancakes then." 

~ 

It's a typical school morning really, in the sense that half of the things Calum needs to do he can't actually get around to doing. There's a sizable list in his head of things he needs to do: put a wash on, iron Aroha's sweatshirt, tidy the kitchen, do the dishes, make lunch for the girls. Totally aware that he'll be lucky to maybe get two of those things done, he starts small. 

There's a pile of mail stacking up by the door, and he sorts the envelopes into nice organised piles so he can open them by category. What's surprising is that today there's something that doesn't fit any of his usual categories, not really. He doesn't recognise the name or the sending address, so he adds it to the 'family stuff' pile and takes it through to the kitchen. He has to start making pancakes because the girls will be down soon and he doesn't doubt that Michael will want some too. Luckily, Calum has the recipe committed to memory and it's barely a ten minute job. They don't take long to cook once the batter is made either, so Calum can put them on the frying pan (coconut oil, so no extra calories) as and when the girls are ready to eat them. 

He decides to open the mystery letter before the girls rush downstairs and mess up his kitchen again. 

_Hello Michael and Calum!_

_It's Lorna Decker here, and you might notice that our address is different to the last time you were here with us in Florida (was it really twenty years ago?) for the wedding. Well, we moved two months ago and we've had boxes up to our eyeballs since then, but I found some old photos that we took during the trip and thought I would send them to you! Come visit us soon guys, and bring the girls with you! Sure they would love Florida._

_All the love,_  
_L. Decker xxxx_

Calum smiles softly, allowing himself a moment to reminisce. Twenty years have completely remoulded him; who he was back then and who he has become- they're worlds apart. If he tries hard enough he can still recall every detail of that Florida trip where they had finally gotten it right. He doesn't get long to reflect, interrupted by the thundering footsteps of his daughter's racing each other down the corridor. He discards the letter in favour of sorting out breakfast, and so he pours the pancake batter into a frying pan. 

Aroha wins, whooping triumphantly as she catapults herself into the kitchen and sits on one of the stools around the island. 

"Ha! I won!" She sticks out her tongue to further antagonate her younger sister. 

Josie walks calmly to the other seat. "No you didn't. Snowball got here before you so, technically, he won." Aroha opens her mouth to protest but Calum cuts her off, shaking his head subtly. Aroha doesn't understand the imaginary friends thing- not that Calum does either- and is generally irritated by her parents' willingness to comply. ("But Daddy, we all know there's nothing there!") 

"I was here before all of you so I win! But I'm a graceful winner so you can both have pancakes before me. Now, if you can wait for ten minutes then you can put some cartoons on." 

There is peace for a short while as the girls switch on the TV to entertain themselves, and Calum takes his opportunity to tend to the pancake mixture. He's barely flipped the first one before the comfortable quiet is disrupted.

"Papa, what's this?" Aroha is holding up the envelope Calum had left unguarded, and it's only when a flurry of Polaroids fall onto the table that Calum abandons his post by the breakfast. 

Josie is already sorting through the images. "Is this you and Daddy?" She holds up a Polaroid Calum can't even remember posing for. They're both in suits so it must be from the registry office and they're smiling- the anticipation and excitement the knows they were feeling is bursting out of white frame. 

_Just married!_

Calum nods and smiles to himself, though neither of his daughters are looking at him anyway, instead preoccupied by the old pictures.

Josie giggles "Daddy has blonde hair in these pictures!" 

"Ew gross, in this one they're kissing!" Aroha complains. Calum takes it from her before she tears it because... fuck. Fuck, he remembers _this_ picture being taken. 

They'd been cuddling on the couch, completely absorbed in one another as they had so often been back then. This was the day before the wedding- neither one of them had planned to get married whilst they were out there but it had just made sense. Calum can remember how Michael had positively beamed when his uncle had told them "you know, you two make a wonderful couple!" Michael had nodded, replied with something like "I think so too." and then leaned into kiss Calum. He remembers the blinding flash of a Polaroid pulling them apart, remembers laughing so hard at the shocked expression on Michael's face that he'd fallen off the couch and gotten a concussion. 

_Calm before the storm!_

Calum feels a hand on his waist and a chin nestling into his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, we look young." Michael laughs under his breath.

"You remember this?" Calum mutters, trying to keep the moment private. 

"'Course I do. You were so loopy when you were concussed, one of the funniest hours of my life." 

"Nice to know that you were worried sick." 

"You were fine, weren't you?" Calum knows that Michael is rolling his eyes, doesn't have to see it. 

"Yeah, I guess." Calum admits. "But I could have not been! I could have like, fallen into a coma. And then what would you have done?" 

"I would have married you anyway." 

"Oh yeah? So, wise guy, how would I say 'I do' in a coma?" 

"You wouldn't have to say it. I would just know. I think I'd be able to feel it." And that might just be the most romantic thing Michael has said for like, five solid years.

Calum turns in Michael's arms. "You fucking sap!" He murmurs, hyper aware of his two very very impressionable daughters sat merely metres away. 

Michael smirks. "Yeah, well." 

Calum wants to kiss the smirk right off his fucking lips but the Polaroids can only provide so much of a distraction, and the girls would definitely notice their Dads making out. He thinks he communicates all of this with his eyes- he must do, because Michael gives a small nod of agreement, pulls him a little bit closer and then steps back into Parent Mode. 

Michael sits at the counter beside Aroha and lets her make fun of the crazy hair and his horrible fashion sense when he was younger. He talks animatedly with them both about their wedding and what they'd done on that holiday- the PG version of the trip, of course- explaining the backstory behind each of the Polaroid pictures.

Calum simply observes for a second, quite suddenly struck by how overwhelmingly content he is with the life he has. Michael looks up and grins at him but is called back almost instantly by Josie tugging on his arm to ask him about another picture. 

Calum likes the moments when they get to be husbands. They're frankly few and far between these days: too often they are Fathers or Band Members or Record Label Owners, Calum Hood and Michael Clifford but not _themselves,_ not really, not just CalumAndMichael. 

But, that's not to say that they begrudge their daughters the time they spend caring for them- in fact, Calum loves being a father more than anything else in the world. His Dad had told him when he was younger that he would never understand what love actually felt like until he had his own children. He thinks he understands now. Watching his daughters interacting with his husband, their father- watching his little family just coexisting and loving each other; Calum feels at peace. He feels _in love._ He wouldn't trade his life for anything. 

Michael gets up. "I'm gonna call Mum, ask her to send me Aunt Lorna's phone number so I can ask about these pictures."

Calum assents. "Yeah, sounds nice. Ask her if she has a date in mind for a visit while you've got her, Luke was talking about a guys' night and we've not been out for ages."

"Will do, babe." 

Aroha hops down from her stool to retrieve her reading book from her school bag and- 

Calum folds his arms across his chest. "Aroha Mali Clifford, why are you wearing rain boots to school?" 

Aroha, visibly chastised by the use of her full name flounders for a second. "Um, because I wanted to?" 

"Have you been wearing them around the house?" Calum watches her bite her lip and immediately knows that she has. "If you've got mud on the upstairs carpet-" 

"I haven't, I haven't! I cleaned them first. See!" She quickly pulls off one of the red, polka dot print boots and hands it to Calum for inspection. It's clean, he'll give her that much. 

"You pass this time. But take them off, Ro, and put your school shoes on. It's not even rained since like, August." Aroha grumbles but takes off the other offending shoe. 

"Pancakes are ready now, anyway. Jose, would you grab the maple syrup from the cupboard please?" She gets out her seat but before she can get the syrup she's hoisted onto Michael's shoulders. She screams, but she's laughing hysterically. 

"Daddy, put me down!" She laughs.

"You need to get the syrup for Papa first, Jojo." Michael reminds her and steers them both to the cabinet. Michael sings the Mission Impossible theme tune under his breath and Calum fights the urge to grab Josie and put her on the floor where she is _safe, damn it Michael._ Michael tilts and turns his body, pretending to drop her but she just laughs and laughs, eating it up. 

"Is the syrup extracted?" Michael asks in a deep, what Calum assumes is a spy voice.

"Uhuh." Josie nods vigorously.

"Mission complete." Michael drops to the floor and Josie scrambles off his shoulders. "High five, spy kid." The two high five and Calum rolls his eyes, secretly just happy to see them both on even ground. 

"You know, Aroha was going to wear rain boots to school today." Calum states, hand on hip. He's totally aware that he has become his mother. 

"That would look so cool, Ro! My little fashionista, hey?" She giggles but quickly turns her laughter into a wistful sigh.

"No, Daddy. Papa says I can't because it's not raining." Aroha sighs dramatically again. 

Michael turns to Calum and gives him a pleading look. And he can never resist the puppy dog eyes, Michael knows that, so he can hardly resist two sets of them. Calum feels a little ganged up on. 

"Fine." He relents. "But when your teacher writes home to ask about your uniform you can tell her who's to blame."

"Thank you, Papa! You're the best Dad in the entire world." Aroha beams, getting out of her seat and throwing herself into Calum's arms. He catches her, though he's not quite as agile as he used to be, and buries his head into her neck, taking what affection he can get, really. "Love you, Papa." 

"Yeah yeah, okay. Love you too. Now eat your pancakes before they get cold."

Michael kisses his cheek. "I'm going to the studio for a bit, have to sort some stuff out with that one band, but I'll be home early today."

Calum nods. "'Kay. Love you, Mike." He calls, as Michael gathers his coat and briefcase to head out the house.

"Love you, Cal! Bye, girls!" The door slams shut.

"Are bags packed and ready to go?" His daughter's hold up their matching rucksacks for visual confirmation. "Shoes on?" Aroha sticks her tongue out as an answer to that one. "What's this- are we ready for school? Early? Is this the first time we could actually be at school before the bell rings?" 

"Papa," Aroha groans.

"This is one for the record book, girlies! Ready for school with time to spare!" 

Aroha groans again, louder and more angsty. 

"Fine, fine, okay. Cut off my celebration, that's fine. I'm just..." Calum sniffles loudly and exaggeratedly, "I'm just so proud!" 

"Papa, you're so embarrassing!" Aroha complains. 

"You think this is embarrassing? Oh my dear, sweet daughter, you have no idea what I am capable of." Calum smiles evilly and cackles like a villain, sending Josie into fits of giggles. 

"We're gonna be la-ate!" Aroha sing songs, grabbing Calum's hand and pulling him forcefully to the door. 

"You two get in the car, I'll just be a minute!" 

Calum picks up another Polaroid, quickly. It's a stupidly sentimental one, one he smiles at as soon as he sees. It sounds ridiculous, but after the wedding he and Michael had gone to target food shopping. At the time it felt like a huge deal because it was their first grocery shop as A Married Couple. So, when they'd got back to the house, arms laden with carrier bags full of food and alcohol, they'd asked Michael's uncle to take a picture of them. Of course, he'd taken it a moment early and neither of them had been ready.

 _L is for the way you look at me!_

They look a lot less put together in this picture than the one outside the registry office: they're sweating, hair matted and windswept but they're looking at each other with such love and adoration, it's radiating out of their faces. Calum feels a little bit teary eyed. 

Back then they'd had no idea what their future was going to hold. They were young and naïve but they were so in love, have always been so in love that they had had total faith in themselves as a unit, in each other as individuals. And, well, they'd done it. Two kids, a beautiful house, even a cat (albeit an imaginary one). Jobs they don't hate. Calum had pretty much struck gold, meeting and falling for Michael, he knows that now more than ever. 

The front door opens. "Papa, come on!" 

"Yeah, I'm coming now, gorgeous." Calum calls. 

He slips the Polaroid into his wallet for safekeeping, smiles to himself and walks out into another day.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all should come talk to me on tumblr!!! I have like a hundred million head canons about this verse of you're interested (and I'm also lowkey super lonely so) !!!! mashlumtrash :-)


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